Thank You, Radar
by Arisprite
Summary: A small collection of Jeff and Abed moments.
1. Chapter 1

Jeff's fastest sprint was enough to stop his Lexus from being towed away; a good thing, as he didn't think he had enough money to buy food and also pay a tow fee. The man driving the truck had no resistance to either the Winger charm or the Jeff the Lawyer manipulation, so it was easy to get his car off the tow truck hook, and back into another student lot, this one without a permit policy. Frankly, he was surprised that Greendale even had a permit policy. It just didn't seem the type.

He planted his two-days-since-laundry-day-clean slacks on the warm hood, and glowered at the general populace. It wasn't all that different from his usual expression on the Greendale quad, so he didn't even get any nervous looks, which was disappointing.

There had been a time when a frown from him meant a world of misery and despair, but now his grumpiness was meaningless. Like his life.

Jeff sat further back, and rubbed a hand over his face, and up into his hair. He could feel the grease from his un-showered-ness, as well as the stiffness of the product he put in his hair to try to disguise that fact. He smelled, he felt gross, and his clothes were all wrinkled and dirty because he hadn't gotten around to getting quarters for a laudromat. He shuddered. Public laundry.

"Oh, boy, Winger..." He muttered.

The study group (well, some of them) had offered him a place. And though the word (i) charity grated on his teeth, especially in regards to himself, he couldn't deny that he needed some kind of change, at least until his money came through.

Jeff thought to his friends who'd offered. Troy's father sounded terrifying, he knew for a fact that he didn't want to live with Shirley's two boys. Abed...Abed was probably the weirdest of the group, but also the least obnoxious. And, he had a private dorm room, no other people there to tip toe around. Bunk beds? Meh, he could live with it.

Sighing, Jeff scooted off the car's hood, and looked towards the student housing building. Could he abandon his pride and live in a student dorm with a tv encyclepedia with a possivle developmental disorder and a communal shower?

In that moment, a random sprinkler that was bent awkwardly (probably as the result of some drunk stumbling in a late night game of ultimate frisby) decided to start up with a pained crackle. The water sprayed out cold, hitting the side of his car and making Jeff dive our of the way with a yelp of dismay.

Answer taken. He could. Abed, here he comes.


	2. Chapter 2

About a week after Jeff moved out, he found himself in front of the poster ridden door, knocking right under Abed's name tag. He shifted his hand on the cold handle of the carton of milk, trying not to drop the box of hot chocolate mixes. He got the kind that had different flavors of the chocolate powder, like hazelnut, white or dark, but now he was kind of wishing he'd jsut bought Abed's normal milk chocolate. He shifted the milk again, 2% because that was Abed's favorite, and the skinny bastard wasn't worried about extra fat in the least.

The door opened, and Abed stood there, looking unscutable as usual.

"Hi, Jeff." Abed said, like he was expecting him. Jeff hadn't called, or texted. He didn't even know if Abed had been home at the time.

"Hi, Abed."

Abed's eye's went down to his hands, and his face softened a tiny bit. Jeff guess he approved.

"Special drink." Abed said, and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Yup, tonight's that Star Trek marathon you mentioned, so..." Jeff held up the carton of milk, and promptly dropped the hot chocolate box that had been under his arm.

Abed smiled wider, and ducked down to grab the dropped box, reading the lable as he straightened up, and turned away from the door.

"Cool."

He left the door open, so Jeff assumed he could follow Abed inside. Abed was already pulling out the two mugs he owned. One, a mug with the batman logo on it was Abed's and only Abed's, and the other was a blue striped one for guests. Jeff had used it exclusively last week.

He sat on the couch, and put out his hand, and wiggled his fingers for the milk. He poured carefully after Jeff handed it to him. Then he opened the box, and pulled out the white chocolate, and mixed it in.

Jeff sat next to him, and picked up the box, and picked a hazelnut blend and mixed his own with a spood from Abed's cup.

Abed watched his stir in, the white powder disappearing into the milk, leaving his mug looking the same as before. Abeb smiled, and took a sip.

He wait a beat, sloshing the drink around his mouth. Then he swallowed.

"That's disgusting." He said, looking down at the mug. Jeff furrowed his brow, looking into the creamy whiteness.

"Really?"

Abed tilted his head, and studied the modified special drink.

"I thought the white chocolate mixed with the milk would be cool because it wouln'dt look like anything had mixed in. But it tastes weird."

"Maybe it would be better warm?" Jeff said, taking a sip of his own. The hazel nut/cold milk just tasted like Nutella. Abed shurgged, and left the room, going to dump it out in the cummunal bathroom sink/where everybody did their dishes, which couldn't be sanitary.

Jeff sipped his drink again. He really didn't see the appeal of Abed's "special drink" but he drank it down anyway. Abed had left the TV going: honestly, he didn't think he ever turned it off, and it was playing the post episode credits for some sitcom. It occured to Jeff that he didn't even know if Abed was planning on watching the Star Trek marathon.

Abed returned with an empty mug and sat back down beside Jeff, refilling the milk, and picking a more normal milk chocolate from his own stash. Jeff knew he didn't mean anything by it, but he couldn't help but feel a sting of rejection. He took a sip of his own cold drink to cover it.

"So, Star Trek?" Abed asked, and picked up the remote, swirling his mug as he did so. "It's the first season of Next Generation, my personal favorite."

Jeff nodded; he could tell that Abed was ramping up.

"I mean, the Original Series is great, where would we be without it? But plot wise Next Generation is far superior. Not to mention the graphics."

"Picard is cool." Jeff interjected, remembering from his childhood television watching. The bald captain, he'd called him before he could even remember the name.

"Yeah," Abed breathed. "Cool."

They watched as the opening scene started, and then Picard's voice over sounded, and Abed turned up the volume a bit.

"I love this part." He said, and took a sip of special drink.

Jeff let himself slouch down further on the couch: still not in his bum on a log position he'd spent last week in, but relaxed. It really was nice, just hanging with Abed, even though Jeff hesitated to admit to their similarities.

Abed was different than other people. THere wasn't that pressure to impress, or be perfect, which was why he'd been so quick to just relax on his couch. With Abed you could just 'be'.

"Hey, Abed?" Jeff said, during a commercial break, as Abed drained the last of his drink. Jeff's was still half full, but after a week of sugar cereal, Jeff wasn't quite feeling the cold chocolate.

"Hmm?" Abed replied. Jeff swirled his drink.

"I was right, that first day. You really are a shaman."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a pained silence in the wake of Abed's declaration. Jeff winced as he shifted, and pulled whatever was on his face, and making him sweat uncomfortably. It was a phantom of the opera mask. His buzzing brain got caught in why Abed would have a phantom mask, but then he decided that he didn't want to know.

"Abed," Jeff started. His own voice made his head pound. "We should get up."

They needed to get going. Study group was at five, and he needed to see Britta, see if whatever he'd dialed last night had made a difference.

Abed only moaned unintelligable words, and wiggled his foot. From the floor Jeff could only see the bottom of the drawer and his hanging limbs.

Jeff groaned, as he rolled over and got to his knees. As the more experienced drinker, it was his responsibility to get Abed back on his feet. He'd only been drinking to help him, after all. His stomach churned as he moved, and his head seemed to want to detach itself from his neck, but he got himself upright, and jiggled Abed's leg.

"...Don't..." Abed mumbled.

"You'll feel worse if you don't drink some water." Jeff said, staggering to his feet. His head spun, and he grabbed hold of Abed's drawer.

Abed way lying perfectly still, staring at the ceiling, with a nerf gun dart stuck to his forehead. Jeff plucked it off with great concentraction, and tossed it to the floor before offering Abed a hand.

"We have to go to study group, I have to see what I said to Britta."

"Yeah,"Abed gripped his hand, and sat up. His skin went sickly yellow. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Jeff jumped back, and raised his hands like he was avoiding getting shot.

"Not in the drawer! Deep breaths, okay?" Abed sucked in a breath, swallowed and breathed again.

"Okay..." He breathed, and some of the color came back to him.

"You alright?" Jeff asked, and Abed gave him a tiny nod. "How did you get in the drawer?"

"I don't remember."

Hopefully, it had been easier than getting him out. Abed staggered, and Jeff ended up practially supporting him entirely (not that there was muc of him) as he dragged him out of the drawer.

Finally he was standing slumped in the middle of his dorm, and squinting around at the mess. Jeff picked the purple boa off from his neck.

"I'm never drinking again." Abed said, looking like he was swearing a solemn oath. Jeff smiled, and dropped the fluffy boa.

Abed lifted a hand to his forehead and pressed hard against his temple.

"Last thing I remember is reenacting the scenes from...that movie...with the guy..."

"Breakfast Club?" Jeff asked again, and Abed shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I don't remember. All my movie quotes, they're gone. My mind is blank."

"Your mind is still sloshed. It'll come back once you get the alcohol out of your system."

Abed swallowed again, and rubbed his stomach.

"If you're gonna puke, you should go now. You know how the bathroom gets that afternon rush."

"I'm not going to puke," Abed said. He gulped. "Ugh,"


End file.
